


The Twink Friend (You're The One I Want to Go Through Time With)

by ThatGirlOverThere



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlOverThere/pseuds/ThatGirlOverThere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's in it for me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Twink Friend (You're The One I Want to Go Through Time With)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if Hank/Peter (Heter? Pank? Hantro? Piank?) isn't even a real pairing, but I couldn't help thinking how cute they'd be as a couple. It's a real shame there aren't more Peter-centric fics out there, so I wrote one for myself. Lord knows I loved his character. It might have been the hair, actually.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!

It was understandable that Charles would be at least a little opposed to breaking Erik Lehnsherr out of a maximum-security federal building, but from what Hank could see from his neutral position in the backseat of Logan’s forest green Ford Pinto (which was clearly stolen, if Logan’s uneasiness with driving stick-shift was any indication), he was a bit excited as well. He wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it: his fingers were tapping the glossy panel-wood siding fervently, and Hank could see Logan visibly twitch with each obnoxious thwack.

“Fuck, we’re really doing this. Jesus, Logan, I hope whoever this is knows damn well what they’re doing,” Charles said, scrutinizing the stone-walled grey home they’d just pulled up to. He got out of the car and stretched, ruffling his greasy shoulder-length hair with his fingers.

“Maximoff,” Hank read off the mailbox as he slammed the car door shut. “Any chance we’d know him?”

“You will, don’t worry,” barked Logan gruffly, rapping on the door with an obscenely large fist.

A willowy, simpering red-headed woman opened the door. Her eyes immediately widened at the three men staring back at her, one in particular sporting a menacing, determined scowl.

“What’d he do this time? Shit... just, how much do I owe you?” she sighed exasperatedly, reaching into the pocket of her paisley robe.

“We’d just like to speak to him.”

She clicked her tongue and gestured to a flight of descending stairs with her neck, discreetly eyeing Charles with flirtatious and heavy-lidded eyes.

“He’s down there. Peter, the police are here! Again!”

Hank clambered down the stairs after Charles and Logan, and the immediate barrage of colors, music, and the heady smell of skunky smoke was enough to send him into a Charles-esque mental breakdown. A gangly, incoherent-looking teenager with silver hair lay sprawled on a terribly expensive-looking leather couch, a half-smoked joint burning away between his pale fingers.

“If you guys are cops, I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said in a breezy voice, “But I don’t think you’re cops. You aren’t in any of the databases. I looked while you guys were talking to my mom. I had some time to kill after, so I smoked a little, I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t think you do, I mean you wouldn’t, ‘cause you’re not cops. What’s up with your hair?”

Logan growled low in his throat. “Quit being a pain in the ass. We’re not cops. I’m Logan. You aren’t supposed to know me for a little while, but I’m here and I need your help.”

Peter hummed. “Do I know you?” he said to Hank.

Hank opened his mouth but Logan beat him to it. “Not yet, but you will. Seriously, I need your help. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Is it you need my help or all of you? If it’s just you, then why’d you bring Greasy and his twink friend?” Peter drawled, strolling over to a glossy yellow pinball machine and turning it on with a firm kick to the side.

Charles’ jaw clenched visibly, and a tiny patch of skin behind Hank’s earlobe began to turn a bright azure blue.

“Look, I don’t know you, and I don’t think I would have ever liked to. But we all need your help. This is kind of fucking important, alright? If you care anything about people like us, you’ll help us break our... friend... out of... jail,” Charles snarled.

“Jailbreak. That’s illegal,” Peter says, his gigantic brown eyes glistening as he violently jabbed the buttons on a clearly stolen pinball machine.

Hank looked around the room, where piles of brand new televisions sat in the corner gathering dust, and enough boxes of snack cakes to feed half the population during a coming apocalypse lay stockpiled in neon-lit coolers.

“Only if you get caught,” he said.

Peter clicked his tongue, his eyes not leaving the screen of the machine. “What’s in it for me?”

“You, kleptomaniac, get to break into the Pentagon,” said Logan.

Peter turned around quickly, his eyes impossibly large and crazed.

“So you’ll help us?” asked Charles.

“You said people like us,” Peter deadpanned. “What do you guys do?”

Logan held out his fist, his alabaster claws slowly protruding from the skin.

“That’s fucking gross,” laughed Peter. “How ‘bout you, Greasy? What’s your deal?”

“My name is not ‘Greasy’, it’s Charles, and that’s Hank, not my fucking ‘twink friend’,” Charles hissed dangerously.

“Pleasure to meet you, Hank,” said Peter, smiling and licking his lips lasciviously. Hank cleared his throat.

Peter yawned, moving back to the couch and stretching himself out like a contented cat.

“So tell me, what’s the plan?”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic would have been very fun to write, but I've decided to turn it into a stand-alone piece with an open ending, since my knowledge of the X-Men universe isn't sufficient to write a full-length fic. I plan on writing a coffeeshop AU for the Hank/Peter pairing, so stay tuned.


End file.
